


bedroom hymns

by goldenretrievers46



Series: breakfast club sessions [3]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: 1990s, Friends With Benefits, Intimacy, M/M, Mild Smut, Pre-Canon, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Smut, catholic alex, parallels between religion and sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28850100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenretrievers46/pseuds/goldenretrievers46
Summary: as a kid, alex would get on his knees to pray to jesus. now, alex is on his knees again, except this time he is worshipping something far more carnal.//or, a glimpse into luke and alex messing around, featuring religious symbolism.
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms)
Series: breakfast club sessions [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084514
Comments: 12
Kudos: 60





	bedroom hymns

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone! I am back with more lalex! As a queer person who grew up in the church, I've always wanted to write something with religious imagery, and since catholic alex is a headcanon of mine, I just took this idea and ran with it. This does get a little smutty- it isn't super explicit, but sex is kind of the whole plot, so if you didn't sign up to read that today, it might be a good time to turn back. This is also my first time ever attempting to write a sex scene, so I'm a bit nervous to post this, but I'm going to do it anyway because the kneeling parallels are just too good to pass up. Again, this does fall in line with my breakfast club sessions series, but this fic can be read as a standalone as well. If you love sunset curve friendship or want to know how luke and alex got together, you can read the first two stories in the series! Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading, I'd love to hear some feedback in the comments, as always. Thanks!

bedroom hymns

setting: luke’s bedroom, december ‘94

characters: luke and alex

As a little kid, Alex would practice praying. There was something nerve-racking about having to kneel at church on those rickety kneelers while everyone around you watched, and there was something even more terrifying about being called on to pray by his father at bedtime. So, Alex practiced. He would kneel by his bed, staring at the checkered quilt and the blanket ties in front of him, and he would whisper sentences in the most eloquent way he could muster, praising and confessing and thanking God, and maybe asking Him for a new toy every once and awhile. He soon memorized the way his knees felt against the carpet, the way he folded his hands and the way his mouth formed around the words, full of childlike adoration, no questions asked. 

Of course, Alex got older, and he started asking questions, and praying began to feel hollow and empty. Soon he wondered whether God was simply distant, or if he had made Him up in his head. Despite his doubts, he still felt some sort of weird obligation to bow his head in reverence when the priest lifted the host, as if that automatic response had been ingrained in his brain forever. By the time he was fourteen, Alex no longer kneeled by his bed alone and prayed. He didn’t even practice anymore. A couple years before, his prayers had become far too full of confessions and far too lacking in the other things- confessions about how he’d looked twice at a boy in his class one day, confessions about how he’d thought about sharp jawlines and stubble and calloused muscle when he’d touched himself one night, confessions about how something within his mind and body just didn’t add up to what was in the Bible. At a point, Alex didn’t know if God could ever forgive him for all those confessions, and he didn’t know if he wanted Him to. The world was far too vast for one little book, and it was full of lights and color and brightness and  _ life _ , and Alex didn’t want to kill himself, stifle who he was, just because of a verse in Leviticus. He wanted to live. 

Now, Alex found himself praying to new gods. He was fresh off of turning seventeen, adrenaline in his veins, and he was on his knees, worshipping the carnal as if it were the spiritual. He remembered exactly how his calves would imprint into the carpet, except he was in Luke’s bedroom on his lumpy floor, not his own, and his hands weren’t folded, instead they were steadying Luke’s hips against the wall, and Luke was looking down at him, his eyes heavy-lidded and his breathing shallow. Alex didn’t know how he’d managed to get so lucky to be a part of this religion, where the only rules were to touch and feel and be present in the moment. Luke laughed, a stuttering thing as Alex’s fingers worked at the button of his jeans, his lips swollen and his skin flushed. 

“Fuck, Alex,” he said, his voice raspy. 

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Alex replied as he unzipped Luke’s fly, never able to resist a smartass remark. 

Yes, this was church, Alex thought as he finally freed Luke from the constraints of his clothing, leaving only his shirt, which was dancing along his hipbones and riding up, briefly exposing his stomach, a taut thing. He remembered the way the priest would present the Eucharist, the way he would bow his head out of respect when the words ‘ _ the body of Christ’  _ were spoken. Now, he felt inclined to do the same as he gazed upon Luke’s body, and all its lines and indentations and scars, and listened to Luke’s pleading to just fucking touch him already. 

“Patience is a virtue,  _ Patterson _ ,” he said pointedly, trying to figure out how he was going to fulfill this new sacrament. 

As daunting as it was, Alex relaxed as soon as Luke’s hands gripped his head, fingers twisting around his hair in a sort of methodical way. He felt guided by Luke, and even as he seemed to come apart at the anticipation of what was about to happen, he had that fiery confidence that Alex fed off of. 

“I don’t know if you could call what we’re doing virtuous,” Luke replied. 

Alex laughed at the irony of it all. “No,” he agreed. “I’m sorry Luke, I’m not going to know what I’m doing.” 

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything, right?” Luke said softly. “Just fuckin’ go for it, man.”

Alex considered this for a moment, and decided that maybe it was time for him to be a little more fearless. He’d always practiced praying as a child, because what could he say to his father if the words came out wrong? Alex felt similarly about this- he didn’t want to mess it up, and of course he’d never  _ practiced _ giving head before. He was out of his element. But Luke was in front of him, and he was smirking, yet surprisingly thoughtful, and he was oh so fucking hard, and Alex realized that it was pointless to be nervous, because Luke was Luke, and Alex was Alex, and this was all for them. 

As Alex began to suck Luke off, he realized that there was something inherently worshipful about it. It wasn’t necessarily very enjoyable for him, in fact he felt rather suffocated, but it was all worth it to feel Luke’s fingers twist around his hair, to hear Luke’s breath hitch, soft gasps floating into the air around them. The semantics of it all were rather messy- Alex didn’t really know how to keep his teeth out of the way, his lips and jaw were tired nearly immediately, and he’d almost gagged a few times- but that wasn’t the important part. The real meaning of it all lay in the way Luke was arched back against the wall, utterly awakened to the sensual. It lay in the fact that  _ Alex _ was the one who was bringing him this thrill, this satiation. It lay in how Alex began to trace lines along Luke’s inner thigh, across his hips, just below his navel, as he got more confident in the way his mouth formed around Luke. Yeah, this was worship, alright. It was almost awe-inspiring how Luke just surrendered to the touch, to the sensation of it all. He was wild and free and without inhibitions, and Alex wanted to drink all of it in and never forget the hurried whispers of ‘ _ don’t stop’ _ and ‘ _ that’s so fucking good, baby’ _ . 

It all became frantic rather quickly. They were playing off of each other now, Alex increasing the rhythm and adding his hand, and Luke urging him forward, telling him through a strained voice when things felt right. Alex realized now that there was an art to sex; there was a craftsmanship in how you play every little detail and push every little button for the pleasure of another. Alex was noticing that Luke liked certain little things, like whenever Alex would hum, creating vibrations, or whenever he would dig his fingernails into Luke’s hips, leaving little red marks scattered across flushed skin. Luke’s breathing was coming heavy, all of his muscles tense, and Alex found that the tempo was becoming erratic. He  _ knew _ how to keep a steady beat, and this was anything but, yet Alex decided he didn’t mind it too much, because Luke was throwing his head back against the wall and  _ moaning _ . His skull hit the sheet rock with a loud thud, but it didn’t seem to faze him much, because he was biting his lip in pleasure, his hands tightening around Alex’s hair. 

“Oh my  _ god _ , Alex, shit,” he was saying, hurried and stilted.

Alex smirked inwardly. It was extremely gratifying to see Luke so wrecked, all of his cockiness vanishing into the humbling, consuming raptures of touch. As Luke let his head fall back into its normal position, Alex met his eyes, and holy  _ shit _ . Luke’s pupils were blown out, and his gaze was intense, almost dizzied in a way. What struck Alex was the amount of surrender and devotion he found in Luke’s eyes, and Alex decided that maybe Luke was worshipping him a bit, too. Then, it was all over as quickly as it had begun. 

“Jesus Christ,” Luke gasped. “I’m gonna come.” 

And so he did, the name of the Lord on his tongue. It was all rather fitting, was it not? Alex found himself coughing a bit with the force of it all, but he tried his best to valiantly swallow, the taste salty against his tongue. Luke slumped back against the wall, eventually sliding down to sit on the carpet next to Alex, his breaths ragged and his skin golden. 

“You good?” Luke wondered. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m great,” Alex said dumbly. “You’re great.” 

Luke’s smirk was back now, and Alex allowed him to capture his lips in a kiss, deep and searing. 

“God, I love that we get to do this,” Luke murmured as they broke apart. “You’re  _ such _ a good friend.” 

“Mmm,” Alex agreed, setting his forehead against Luke’s. “It’s like a spiritual experience.” 

“What?” Luke asked in confusion, a laugh on his lips. 

“That felt like worship,” Alex whispered, letting his thumbs glide across Luke’s cheek. 

“ _ Oh _ ,” Luke said in a voice not his own, and then suddenly his mouth was on Alex’s neck, and Alex just knew he was going to have marks there, but it didn’t matter, because there was a new rush of heat in his gut, and Luke’s hands were in his hair again. 

“That might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever said,” Luke said, pulling away. 

“It’s true,” Alex panted, his breaths coming quickly now. “You’re worthy of it, Luke, I, I can’t even-  _ oh _ -”

And Luke was gripping his shoulders and shoving him into the carpet, and his mouth was back on his neck again, and Alex felt like he was astral projecting through the ceiling. Luke let his teeth graze along Alex’s clavicle, sharp and tracing, and Alex could feel his abdomen tightening even more, and he needed Luke’s hands on his body, like, immediately. 

“Oh my fucking god, Luke,” Alex whined. “Touch me.  _ Please _ . Oh my god.” 

“What happened to patience being a virtue?” Luke teased as he continued to plant kisses on Alex’s skin, slowly moving south. 

“Fuck virtues,” Alex replied shakily. 

Luke laughed at that, the bastard. “Well,  _ Mercer _ , I am going to touch you,” he said. “I’m going to  _ worship _ you as well.” 

And then Luke was pulling Alex’s joggers off and he was kissing him again, hungry and wanting, and then Luke’s hand was on his dick and everything kind of blurred out into pleasure for a while. 

//

Alex decided that the post-coital haze was one of his favorite states to exist in. It was nice to feel spent and exhausted and satiated, especially when you could curl up against your lover and exist together, sharing unspoken words. Right now, he was laying in Luke’s bed with Luke’s head on his chest. Luke was asleep, having just drifted off, and his breathing was light and relaxed. The only time Alex ever saw Luke be at peace was when he slept- it was either 100 or 0 for him- and Alex felt lucky that he knew both sides of Luke more intimately than anyone else. 

He wondered at the meaning of it all, the connection of it all. Sure, it had been only the second time they’d messed around (the first being in the loft at the studio) and neither of them had tons of experience, so many things were still new and awkward. They’d had to ask one another stupid questions and laugh when one of them didn’t know what to do or how to feel, but despite all of those growing pains, Alex didn’t feel like he was wrong to liken it to worship. He was beginning to understand that he’d never cared for someone so intensely before. His heart was tethered to every close relationship he had, but his soul? The last time he’d felt his soul shift was when he was ten years old, wondering at the miracle of Jesus’s birth during the Christmas Eve midnight mass. Hope and assurance that God loved him unconditionally had welled up within him, and he’d turned to his sister and captured her in a crushing hug, wanting to share that love, and never wanting to forget what it felt like to fly on the high of certainty. Of course, doubt happened, and boys happened, and his soul began to lay dormant, and Alex began to wonder if that part of him had ever existed in the first place. But tonight, his soul had come alive again, with every touch and kiss and gasp and stroke, as well as the knowledge that each of those physical actions had real, genuine meaning behind them, because it was with  _ Luke _ , and Alex loved Luke, and Luke was  _ beautiful _ . 

Perhaps it was only fitting that Alex began to hum a hymn he remembered hearing his mother sing around the house- ‘ _ you are my strength when I am weak, you are the treasure that I seek, you are my all in all’ _ . And if Alex was thinking about him, not Him, it was no one’s business but his own. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'd like to close by saying that the title of this fic is from a very nice florence and the machine song which is on my lalex playlist, which you can find here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6yCmJmkTE1r6pTTCYmhJen?si=7n298P-tTeuQRQfIi8JvlA  
> and the song alex hums at the end is called All in All, and i don't know who it's by but its a very common worship song.  
> Thank you all so much for reading! If you liked it, please drop a kudos, and if you have thoughts, please drop a comment! Both of those things always make my day.  
> You can find me on tumblr @tiriansjewel.  
> much love! <3


End file.
